I'm Your Man
by sadlady
Summary: A little bit of Monica


Usual Disclaimer

I don't own the characters of Bodie and Doyle, or any others from the TV series. They belong to Mark One Productions and Brian Clemens.

I borrow them to write fiction for my own (and hopefully your) pleasure, with no financial gain to myself or anyone else.

Influenced by ©Lou Bega 'Mambo No 5'

I'M YOUR MAN

'Last orders gentleman please. Last orders'.

The rush to the bar would have done the Olympics proud.

Bodie sighed heavily and took a draught of his lager. 'Fancy another one?' he asked his partner.

Ray shook his head. He'd had four pints and a couple of whiskies already, and no dinner. He felt lightheaded. 'Nah. Not for me.'

Bodie sighed again. He'd drunk as much as Doyle but had devoured four bags of crisps. He looked around the pub, his brow wrinkling as he surveyed the Friday night chaos.

'There's Monica by the bar.' He nodded towards a pretty brunette with a low cut blue top on. She was giggling and leaning forward, allowing her companion to stare with admiration at the swell of her breasts.

Doyle looked around and smiled. Bodie looked quizzically at him.

'Brings back memories does it?' he asked. Doyle shook his head again.

'Nah. Don't need her in my life thanks. I want more than a quick shag.' He looked across the pub at a tall elegant redhead.

'Erica get's better with age doesn't she,' he said. 'Something to be said for the older woman. She had a significant birthday last week. You were in Cambridge. I was by her side at her party.'

Bodie looked amused. 'How did you get on?'

Doyle stared directly at his friend. 'I didn't. I had other things on my mind,' he said slowly.

Bodie returned the unwavering gaze _. Really_! His belly did a flip. Quickly he looked away from Doyle's forest green stare.

'Rita's all I need,' he said airily, and waved across at two girls, twin sisters sitting at the bar. Rita waved back and poked her tongue out at the handsome man. They'd had the odd fling but Bodie's heart wasn't really in it. Rita's twin, Tina waved as well. Doyle smiled toothily at her.

'Tina's what I see.' Bodie turned quickly towards Doyle. 'She's your type mate,' he said, 'all legs and lips.'

Doyle considered this comment briefly before answering. 'No she's not,' he replied briefly, giving Bodie a look that nearly burned his soul.

 _Damn Doyle for playing with him like this._

They both finished their drinks, Doyle pulling a face at the lukewarm lager. As they made for the door Doyle turned.

'Fancy a takeway? I'm starving.'

Bodie pushed Doyle in front of him, savouring the lean musculature of his friend. _Never touch him for too long. It wouldn't do either of them any good,_ although it seemed as though Doyle leaned into him.

They walked quickly to the Sun Po, the nearest Chinese takeaway to Doyle's flat. Mrs Chi greeted Doyle with almost motherly concern. She took the order and passed it through into the kitchen.

'Extra rice for this,' she called.' Is Doyle. Too thin. Needs more meat on his bones.'

Doyle grinned at the woman. 'Where's Sandra tonight?' he asked.

Mrs Chi wagged her finger at him. 'She's on holidays. Majorca. Sandra in the sun. You miss her?'

'No. No.' answered Doyle hastily. 'Just wondered where she was. Not my type really.'

Mrs Chi arched an eyebrow. 'You too picky. Sandra is gorgeous. Maybe your friend like her?'

Doyle laughed delightedly. 'Sandra! She'd eat him alive. He wouldn't stand a chance.'

Bodie got the distinct impression he was the butt of a joke he didn't understand. Mrs Chi pushed a large bag across the Formica counter, keeping up a furious argument with her husband in Cantonese. She turned to Doyle.

'Extra rice and extra springs rolls. Cheap bastard,' she added jerking her head towards the kitchen. 'He say you have too much free food. We can afford it.'

Bodie grabbed the bag and the two men wandered out into the night. The pubs were emptying out and the road was busy.

They walked slowly towards Doyle's flat, both rummaging through a bag of prawn crackers. Revellers milled around, the mini cab office was full, punters queuing outside to order transport home Mary, the local good time girl, stood in the doorway. Doyle knew her from his days as a copper. She greeted him warmly.

'Hello Doyle. How's it going? Not seen you for a while.' Her eyes narrowed as she gave Bodie a measured glance. 'Who's your friend?' She stepped out of the shadow and slipped her arm through Bodie's. He gave her his most charming smile.

'You're a looker,' she said. 'Fancy a bit of Mary all night long?' Bodie shook his head. 'Have to get the young Doyle safely home – thanks for the offer though.'

He caught up with Doyle and nudged his friend in the ribs. 'Stop laughing,' he said noting the tears rolling down Doyle's face as he tried to stifle his giggles.

'She's old enough to be your mum,' he spluttered. 'She was working the streets when I came out of Hendon.'

They reached Doyle's block of flats. He jammed the key in the lock and went to open it. Before he could turn the key the door flew open, and a young woman careened into his arms.

'Bye,' she called up the stairs before turning to face the men. 'Here I am...oh, Ray, sorry I thought you were Tony.' The woman pushed herself out of Doyle's arms.

'Jessica, where are you off to this time of night?' he asked. She smoothed down her dress.

'Tony's taking me to the Rock Garden...' she broke off as a green MG slithered to a halt at the kerb. 'Bye Ray,' she said, kissing him on the nose.

The car pulled away in a flurry of exhaust. The two men climbed the stairs and went in to Doyle's flat. Bodie put the bag on the table and opened the cupboard to get the plates. Doyle said nothing but stared at his partner.

Bodie put the plates down and placed forks and spoons next to them. He unloaded the bag and began to take the lids off the various foil trays. They ate in companionable silence. After a while even Bodie couldn't force another mouthful down. He patted his tummy and pushed the chair back.

'Got any booze. I could do with a lager to wash that lot down?'

Doyle shook his head. 'You've had enough mate.' He got up and walked as far as the sitting room before collapsing on the sofa. Bodie followed him choosing the armchair and swinging his legs across the arm.

'Look at us. Stuffed and alone on a Friday night. A day off tomorrow and no warm woman to wake up with. What's happening Doyle? Are we getting past it?'

Doyle chewed his thumb. 'Nah. Look at all the women we saw tonight. Didn't have a flicker of interest in any of them.'

Bodie sat up, taking careful stock of the situation. 'What do you mean? You. Off women.' His belly did another somersault.

Doyle stretched languidly, arms above his head. Bodie caught his breath at the sight of his partner, long legs resting on the arm of the sofa, shirt undone showing off the dark chest hair and silver chain. _Damn him, he does it on purpose._

Doyle suddenly rolled over and fixed Bodie with a stare.

'Don't say you've no idea what's been going on recently.'

Bodie sat stock still. 'What do you mean?'

'I've seen you watch me. And given any opportunity you get as close as you can. What about the times you grab my shoulder or my arm – you always hold on a fraction longer than necessary. Don't think I don't notice. What do you want from me Bodie?'

Doyle turned away from his partner and swung his legs to the floor. He stood up and looked down at the man. Bodie sat there, blue eyes wide and burning bright. There was a faint flush to his pale skin; whether from embarrassment or confirmation of truth, Doyle didn't know or care. He pulled the taller man to his feet and planted a gentle kiss on Bodie's mouth. He took his stunned partner's hand.

'Come on, let's see where this leads shall we?'

Bodie looked as if he'd been given Christmas and birthday presents all at once. He pulled Doyle close to him and gently entwined his fingers in Doyle's rebellious curls. He tilted Doyle's face upwards and spoke quietly.

'If this goes how I'd like it to, I promise you one thing Ray. A little bit of you makes me your man.'


End file.
